Authors: Anne McCaffrey
“She’d permit him to work outside the Station? In space? That’s where we could really use a powerful kinetic right now.”
“Sure. Why not? I reminded her, as I do you, that young man’s been maneuvering himself in space ever since he learned how to gestalt. And he’s much better at
that
than I am.”
“Could he manage a space suit to do the EVAs?”
“That’s what you’re to find out.”
“Ahhhh,” the admiral drawled, comprehending. “So if he isn’t capable, it’s me that gives him the no-go, not her? Right?”
Johnny chuckled. “Well, he’d accept it from you. He wouldn’t from Rhys. He’d always wonder if she prevented him from getting up here.”
“I noticed that he and Ms. Lehardt have an unusual bond.”
“They do. She got him out of Jerhattan General Hospital and the prospect of a useless existence.”
“He’s what—just eighteen?” Coetzer asked.
“By a couple of months. Kids join the navy at that age all the time.”
“A point.”
“Hell, Dirk, he’s much more powerful a kinetic than I am. You need him up here.”
“You don’t have to convince me of that. But I’d hate to have to put an end to his aspirations if he can’t make the grade in EVA.”
“If the grunts from the Linears can, he can.”
“
If
he doesn’t freak out first time he’s goes extravehicular.” Dirk’s expression mirrored a legitimate skepticism.
“Well, we’ll just have to find out. And if, mind you, and it’s a big if,” Johnny said, pointing his finger at the admiral, “he proves agoraphobic and useless in a space suit, he could probably do more kinesis from inside the Station than Baden did. He can also haul a lot more weight than I can.”
Dirk gave him a long sideways glance. “Like all the way to First Base?” Johnny’s reaction was not what Coetzer expected. He gave a diffident shrug.
“He might at that. At least he can stand on this Station to do his pushing. You’ve got all those powerful generators.” His smile was sly. “Pete loves generators. The bigger the better.”
Dirk gave his head a twist, trying to conceal his elation at the prospect
of having Reidinger on contract to him. “Padrugoi is 440 klicks from Earth. The Moon’s between 400,000 and 450,000.”
“I know. We can start when the Moon’s at perigee and work up to apogee,” was the blithe reply. “Working him into the distance gradually, Dirk. Who knows what he’ll be able to do when his Talent matures.”
Again the admiral favored the general with a long and speculative look.
“You’re up to something, Greene.”
“Yeah, up on Padrugoi, and I want the guy who taught me all I know up here, too. I owe Pete big.”
The admiral couldn’t suppress his suspicion that Greene had some hidden ulterior motive. Which, doubtless, would be confided in him at a time Greene thought appropriate. The former etop pilot and bodyguard of the Secretary of Space was Peter Reidinger’s staunchest supporter. If he couched his admiration and respect for the young man in a slightly cynical manner, that was preferable to patronization or fawning. And Coetzer had plenty of proof that Greene was also his dedicated adherent in all matters that forwarded humanity’s progress starward.
“All right, I’ll make a formal application to the Eastern Parapsychic Center for the services of the kinetic, Peter Reidinger. How much is she going to soak us for him?”
Johnny shrugged. “That’s between accountants. I just recruit.”
“Why doesn’t Peter?” Coetzer asked sharply. “Train more kinetics, I mean. God knows we can use every one the Centers find.”
“There just ain’t anyone else with his little knack. That’s why. Not that Rhyssa and Baden haven’t been looking under every psychic rock to find a likely student for him. I can do gestalt, but I don’t know how I do it. Neither, in the final analysis, does Pete.” He rose stiffly. “I’m for some sack time, Dirk. Catchya later.”With a casual salute, he left the office.
D
irk Coetzer immediately put in a call to his Contracts Manager. He most certainly would grab the opportunity to employ Reidinger. He only hoped that Rhyssa Lehardt would not renege, beset by second thoughts. Greene had made Coetzer patently aware of how unusual and valuable Reidinger was considered by the Parapsychics: a Talent that they would not risk. How had Johnny Greene talked her into it against her better judgment? Coetzer dismissed the notion that he’d have trouble
now that Johnny had told him the lad was available. Rhyssa was known for her integrity and would honor her word to the general. Nor would he have misled Coetzer. The man was clever, an opportunist, devious, but he wouldn’t misrepresent a matter as important as this. Of course, Greene knew how very much Coetzer wanted Reidinger’s abilities up here on the Station. And, if the boy—young man—couldn’t hack space after all, his kinetic talents used from the safety of the Station would still constitute an asset. Coetzer liked Peter Reidinger, admired a lad who had overcome such a massive physical disadvantage. The prospect that Peter might mature into an even greater range and depth was even more tantalizing. What
would
the mature scope be? He gave a soft whistle.
Peter’s juvenile uses of kinesis had been spectacular. Johnny had seen to it that Coetzer received a file of Baden’s training reports on Reidinger. Whether or not he was able to advance beyond his initial performances was moot. The prospect of teleporting freighters to First Base or—Coetzer inhaled sharply at the mere thought—or Mars filled the admiral with a sudden glorious ambition. Padrugoi had been humanity’s first step on the path out of its star system. The installation at First Base was another. A permanent Mars colony replacing the present temporary exploration habitat would prove that humanity could adapt to an alien ecology. Earthlike worlds—M-5s—had been identified around many primaries in this galaxy. That new hush-hush telescope was able to find free oxygen in the ozone layers of several planets, meaning they could probably be inhabited without protective coverings or breathing apparatus. To make the most of such opportunities, humanity had better learn the lessons Earth’s other satellites had to offer. First Base had already taught valuable techniques, a good preparation for the challenge of inhabiting Mars. In Coetzer’s lifetime, Padrugoi had been conceived and constructed. The Moon was inhabited. That he might live to see the day Mars would be, too; that he might also be part of that triumph. What a prospect!
“ ‘Or what’s a heaven for?’ ” Coetzer quoted to himself. He allowed himself a long moment to savor his new aspiration. His intercom buzzed and he dealt with the practical problems of contracting the means to the new goal he contemplated.
———
A
ssimilating Peter Reidinger into the transport command of General Johnny Greene was the first step in his Padrugoi contract. He was hired as a “civilian consultant” in Supply and Transport, nominally working under Greene. At the general’s insistence, he was given the highest security clearance.
“He’s going to handle sensitive stuff from the gitgo,” Johnny said when the Space Authority resisted. “He wasn’t a security risk when he started lobbing shuttles into space for you and he hasn’t developed any questionable habits since then. He also doesn’t need some nearsighted spook snooping around him.”
In the first week of Peter’s employment at Jerhattan Space Port, he lifted more tonnage than Johnny did in a month, a fact the general made sure that everyone in the Space Authority knew. The only aspect of the job that Peter had objections to was the requirement to wear recording pads during gestalt.
“Look, Pete, it’s necessary,” Johnny said, cutting through his demurral. “You don’t feel ’em anyhow so what’s your beef?”
“I have more than enough appliances glued to me,” Peter replied sourly.
Johnny gave him a quick look but did not give in. “They’re a record, just like Incident reporting in the Center, that
we
need. I wear ’em, too. Okay? Now let’s just shift this last monster and call it a day.”
“I’m not tired, Johnny.”
“You aren’t, but I am. I’m thirty years your senior, m’boy, and when I say it’s quitting time, it’s quitting time. Dorotea’s got dinner waiting.”
After they had sent the freighter to Padrugoi on the first leg of its long journey to Oceanus Procellarum and First Base, Johnny gratefully shucked off his pads.
“C’mon, Pete. I’ve seen enough of these four walls today.”
W
hen all parties involved signed the contract with Padrugoi, Rhyssa suggested to Peter that perhaps he would prefer to have his own apartment in the Center for those intervals when he was downside. The Space Authority had not queried the clause that required Peter to have one week in every four back on Earth. Despite his euphoria when Rhyssa
explained the conditions of his contract, Peter “knew” that she didn’t want him living on his own. Nor did he. He liked Dorotea, and Amariyah made a much nicer sister than Katya ever had.
“I’d rather stay at Dorotea’s,” Peter said quickly, and knew by the way Rhyssa relaxed that she’d hoped for this response. “Dorotea says she doesn’t mind me staying on. She’s still trying to fatten me up, you know, even if I don’t like to eat too often.” That was one of the few times Rhyssa heard him refer, even obliquely, to the appliance that collected his body wastes. “It isn’t as if the food isn’t great on Padrugoi.” He lifted his shoulders in a good imitation of Johnny Greene’s characteristic gesture. He saw her lips twitch in recognition.
“It’s your choice, Peter,” Rhyssa said, and tried not to broadcast her relief.
“Besides, Amariyah would miss me,” Peter added with an affectionate smile.
“That’s true,” Rhyssa agreed. “So would Eoin and Chester, young as he is.”
Peter grinned back. “And impressionable. I don’t want your kids to forget me.”
“I doubt they would,” she replied sincerely. Her son, Eoin, now just three and a quarter years old, already showed an unusual empathy for a child, and she hoped it would mature into a useful ability. Chester, at fifteen months, responded to her telepathic cues, turning from tears into smiles when she soothed him. Right now, they could be keenly aware of “atmosphere” and respond to it, naughtily enough, at times, to severely try her patience. They seemed to sense that Peter was different and curbed their horseplay. They never hung on to his hands the way they would their father’s or Johnny Greene’s. It was as if they knew they should respect his personal space.
Since Peter had been under the Center’s aegis, he had had less and less contact with his natural family. Until her death, his mother had religiously visited her son every month but she had never been comfortable in his presence once he was mobile. He supported his father and his sharp-tongued jealous sister, Katya. They would have extorted more financial assistance from a guiltily generous Peter if their sporadic attempts to see him had got past Rhyssa’s staff. After Peter was installed at the Center,
Katya appeared periodically at Beechwoods, demanding that she be allowed to see her brother. Sirikit or Budworth would dutifully show her a duty roster and point out where in the world he was currently training with Lance Baden. Then she’d be escorted back to the transport tube. Shortly before his eighteenth birthday, she gave up. Half the time he had been at Dorotea’s, a short walk from the Henner mansion.
So Dorotea, Amariyah, and Rhyssa’s children became “family” for him.
P
eter was assigned quarters in officer territory on the Station and ate in the officers’ mess. As pleasant as everyone was to him, he couldn’t join in many of the off-duty activities and he felt subtly out of place in the mixed service-civilian environment. Even the ensigns were several years older than he was and, while he was too well mannered to read minds without express permission to do so, he was often aware of the strong emanations of uncertainty about him in the mess. Occasionally one of the older officers was patronizing but he could ignore that. The only one of the Station’s permanent staff he felt comfortable with was Madlyn Luvaro. She had such a crush on a certain Lieutenant Senior Grade Dash Sakai that generally her conversation orbited around the subject of the communications officer. The guy wasn’t the least bit psychic so he was blithely unaware of Madlyn’s crush. Everyone else on the CIC recognized it. It wasn’t as if Madlyn wasn’t pretty, feminine, and good company; it was just that Dash Sakai was career-motivated. Peter wondered if there was any way he could unobtrusively inform the comm officer that having a psychic as a wife would enhance any officer’s career.
In any case, he was glad to step back into the comfortable ambience of Dorotea’s home every month. Amariyah got a trifle bored and short-tempered, like any younger sibling dominating a conversation, when he rattled on about space and the Station. Until the day that he just happened to mention the Station’s extensive hydroponics system that supplied both food and oxygen purification. Instantly her attitude altered and she had to know all about the gardens.
“Then I shall be a space gardener,” she said in her resolute manner.
“First you have to learn hydroponics engineering,” Peter said repressively. That would be all he needed—a kid sister on Padrugoi.
“I shall learn all I need to know from Teacher. You just see if I don’t,” she added in such a quarrelsome mood that both Peter and Dorotea regarded her in surprise. “Dida Tea, you will tell me what courses you took.”
Dorotea regarded her mildly. “If you ask politely.”
Instantly, Amariyah looked penitent, her blue eyes filling with tears of shame for her outburst. “Please, Dida Tea, will you help me?”
“It’ll be hard work,” Peter warned.
“I already know a great deal about flowers and vegetables,” Amariyah reminded him, once again the argumentative sibling.
“You’ll need to know a lot more,” Peter began.
“And so she shall,” Dorotea said, casting a warning look at Peter to subside. “Come, Maree,” she said, holding out her hand to the girl, “we’ll just see what courses Teacher has on-line.”
“Yes, Dida Tea,”Amariyah said meekly. Just at the doorway, she flashed a glance back at Peter and stuck her tongue out.
W
hile Peter’s main task was ’porting supplies and personnel to the Station, he was also required to help ’port materials into the second colony ship, the
Arrakis
, being constructed at Padrugoi. He wanted very much to visit the hull and watch the various stages of its construction. But that would require a space suit. Peter wondered how he could broach the subject of getting trained. If Linear grunts could be taught to manage construction suits, he was sure he could.